


Two's a Company

by HandSocks



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bilbo has a cousin, Dora is a spitfire, Fluff, I'm sorry to phone users, This is a very long one shot, sort of anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:00:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24206335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandSocks/pseuds/HandSocks
Summary: How would it differ, that first meeting of Bilbo and Thorin's Company, if Bilbo did not live alone?
Kudos: 16





	Two's a Company

It had been a typical quiet morning, bright, with the slightest hint of a cool breeze. The picture perfect start to a day in the Shire. So when Bilbo came in early from his usual morning “sit out” in the front garden of Bag End, Dora couldn’t imagine what had her dearest cousin all-a-flutter. The tidy Hobbit had just come out of the kitchen, bringing Bilbo a morning cup of tea when she heard the front door slam closed. “Bilbo?” Dora called as she moved towards the front of Bag End. She came upon him as he pushed off of the solid oak door, muttering darkly as he fiddled with his pipe. “Blasted Wizards, ruining an impeccably proper and perfect morning.” Bilbo raised his curly, blonde head to meet Dora’s questioning gaze. There was a moment of silence when Bilbo didn’t relay what was causing his nervous reaction, though not entirely awkward as Dora didn’t allow it to stretch on. “Here cousin, come sit, I’ve made tea.” She shooed him into the sitting room, where he settled into his favorite chair, and handed him his tea.

She waited as he gathered his wits, taking her usual spot in a rocking chair slightly nearer to the unlit hearth that dominated the space in the sitting room. “Thank-you, Dora.” He said softly, sipping his tea. “Well, I’m sure your wondering what happened.” The Hobbit began, breathing in. “Do you remember Gandalf the Grey?” Bilbo asked.

“Gandalf? ...He was the Man who did the fireworks yes? Always wearing rather drab garb…” Dora nodded, waiting for her cousin to continue.

“Yes well, he was passing through see, and he well… Apparently he had been here to see me. He-“ Bilbo ran a hand through his curls, “He invited me on an Adventure!” He exclaimed in an exasperated tone. “Completely ridiculous of course. Said that Belladonna Took would be ashamed of me, the nerve!” Bilbo fell silent once more, taking another calming sip of tea, lest he truly get upset. “Improper! What sort of Hobbit would I be, traipsing off into the great beyond, leaving you here all on your own?” He asked.

“I will assume then, you refused to go on this Adventure?” Dora asked, leaving the obvious answer to Bilbo’s question unspoken. They both knew that any truly respectable and admired Hobbit wouldn’t go off on such a silly and frivolous thing as an Adventure. It just wouldn’t do. Bilbo looked down at his tea, cheeks heating up, mumbling his answer like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Dora couldn’t understand what Bilbo had said, quiet and muffled as it was. “Cousin… You told him no, correct?” She pressed.

“He didn’t give me the option!” Bilbo burst out after a moment of silence, cheeks flaming hot in his shame.

Dora sighed, “Bilbo Baggins, he doesn’t need to give you the option, you just tell him no.” She needed something to busy her hands, otherwise she might find herself using them to “lovingly” shake some sense into her cousin. She searched around her chair for the knitting she had started the evening before. Soon enough she started working on the light blue wool shawl meant to replace a well-loved, well used shawl that was looking rather worn. “So, do we know when he will be returning?” Dora continued after a moment of silence, hands now safely occupied.

“He…. He implied this evening, and that… he would be bringing company.” Bilbo stared intently at his tea as he answered, not brave enough to meet his cousins, now horrified, gaze.

“What?” Dora whispered softly, voice wavering with emotion.

“They will be here, this evening…. I believe.” He paused, “Around supper time supposedly.” He finished, still acting as if his tea held all the answers to the universe.

“This evening?!... And he is bringing others with him?” Dora exclaimed, rising from her rocking chair, clutching her knitting tight in her right hand. Bilbo nodded, not even daring to speak. “How many? Two, five?” Her voice rose, along with her temper. Bilbo looked pained, unwilling to answer but, forced out a reply none the less, “He said thirteen, fourteen including himself.” 

Dora, stunned into silence, sat back down in her rocking chair, mind whirling as she tried to remember what food she had in the pantry. After a tense moment, Dora looked back up to her cousin, a tempest of emotion behind her gray eyes and she spoke as evenly as she could. “We do not have enough food to feed fourteen people.” She put away the knitting, she didn’t have the time to continue this conversation, let alone her little project with the shopping she must do to make sure that the Company that was coming, was fed. Dora had a feeling she was going to need to borrow Master Gamgee’s wheelbarrow again, but this time, instead of holding dirt, or flowers or whatever else she was wanting to plant in her front garden, it was going to hold all the food she needed.

“Well, I’ll be off then, I probably won’t be back for Elevenses. So don’t wait for me.” She tucked her knitting away, and briskly strode from the room, still quietly fuming at her cousin’s inability to simply say, no. It ended up that not only did Dora miss Elevenses, but Lunch Time, as well as Tea Time. When she returned, it was with Master Gamgee himself pushing the wheelbarrow, piled high with vegetables, fruit, and a few loaves of bread, some cheese and jam. Dora’s arms where filled with three brown packages from the butcher containing chicken. The plan was to make soup, with bread, jam and cheese to go along side. She didn’t know if Gandalf was bringing anyone truly important, but whoever showed up alongside the Man would have to be content with what she was able to make in the limited amount of time she had.

It took a few trips, but eventually she got all of the food into the kitchen and organized. She then walked quietly into the sitting room and promptly handed Bilbo the bill. He said nothing, and looked glumly at the strip of parchment listing each item with its price beside it in Dora’s small and neat writing. “They are fine with you coming around tomorrow to play them what is owed.” She called back to him, as she quickly made her way back to the kitchen, snatching her apron from a peg in the short hallway that connected the two rooms.

Donning the apron and tying it briskly, she began by simply finding the largest pot that she owned. Soon the kitchen hearth was lit, and the water set over the flames to boil. First she trimmed and cut the meat, rubbing it with butter, garlic and black pepper and adding the bones to the water to create the broth for the soup. She laid the meat on the largest frying pan she owned, and set that over the grate that was slightly above the steel bar that was holding the pot. Next she washed the vegetables and fruit that she would be using, peppers, carrots, onions, celery, cabbage, potatoes, mushrooms and tomato’s. For the next hour she peeled and chopped, using her anger to lend speed to her task, every so often checking the chicken. It wouldn’t do to have the meat burn on her. Soon the water was simmering and the chicken cooked. She the chopped up the chicken into thick squares and set them to the side, she would add them once it was almost time for the soup to be done.

She washed her hands as well as the different cutting boards and knives she had been using. It had become dark in the time it had taken her to get the main part of the meal well on its way to being finished. Dora moved onto the bread, cheese and jam. The bread was a heavy honey oat, which she sliced in to thick pieces, placed neatly into a wicker basket lined with a tea towel and wrapped the loaves lightly to stay fresh for supper. The cheese was sliced thinner, and placed on a platter, a sharp orange cheddar, a smooth Havarti and a block of soft goat’s cheese. The jams were a jar of black berry and a jar of peach opened with a small spoon placed in each, so one didn’t have to dip a possibly dirty knife in the jar instead.

With the side dish taken care of, she turned her attention back to the soup, water now piping hot and fished out the chicken bones, throwing them in the fire. She added salt, pepper and a few cloves of garlic to the newly made broth, timed out five minutes and then added all the other ingredients, besides the chicken. She then timed out fifteen minutes, and then finally added the chicken.

Dessert was going to be a very simple thing: strawberries with beaten cream. But that could be prepared while everyone was eating. It seemed that luck was with her, for it was as she took the soup off of the flames, simply pulling the steel rod outward with an iron hook, that the first knock on the door came. Bilbo had finally braved showing his face in the kitchen to help with gathering all the dishes they were going to need on the few serving trays that Dora owned. Her cousin seemed to freeze in place and Dora mentally sighed, going to get the door herself. 

She didn’t really know who to expect, other than Gandalf of course, but the Dwarf who greeted her was quite the unusual and intimidating figure. He was… solid, as if crafted from the very bones of the Earth. Bald as an egg, with tattoos etched across his skin turning him from odd to exotic. He practically bristled with weapons, exuding a restrained menace. Just who had earned that menace, Dora wasn’t sure, but she somehow knew down her fuzzy feet, that she was not the focus of his ire. “Dwalin, at your service.” The mighty warrior bowed with a polite grace she did not expect. Being that she had never actually met a Dwarf before, she found herself wondering if all Dwarfs were like this. If so, she didn’t know if she could handle twelve more. “Dora Baggins, at yours good sir.” She did her best to try and curtsy, but didn’t let him in the door. Not yet. Bag End had rules, and despite the fact that Master Dwalin looked as though he could easily snap her in half, she needed to tell him the rules. He would be the one to keep the rest of the guests in line. She hoped at least. 

“Master Dwalin, before I let you in, I would ask a favor of you.” Dora began, the Dwarf looked surprised, and leveled a very intense, but curious stare at her, as if he was actually seeing her for the first time. “What would you have of me, lass?” he asked softly, sounding mildly impressed.

“Supper is not quite ready yet, and I will not have anyone snitching food. Would you be willing to let the others of your… group know that the kitchen is off limits?” The Hobbitess hoped that he would indeed agree to be the bulwark between the chaos to come and her kitchen. The Dwarf grinned, clearly amused by her request. Sensing a slight hesitancy in his answer and with a rather Took like tone she continued, “Should I expect trouble, Master Dwalin?” 

He hummed lightly, thinking, “With me? No… but some of the others…” He let the statement hang in the air, like an almost visible threat.

“Would you then be willing to… encourage them to not be trouble for, say, exclusive supper items?” Dora offered, ready to bargain with other items she had squirreled away for special occasions in her pantry. “And possibly be the one to escort them out if they don’t cooperate?”

Dwalin crossed his arms, the leather of his armor making a soft squeaking sound as the material pulled tight across his chest and arms. “Can I toss them out in any manner I please?” He looked almost gleeful with the prospect of possible violence. Dora didn’t know really what to make of it, but she was quick to set parameters none the less, “No tossing out or through any windows. Only out the front door, onto the path. Not in the garden, if you please.”

Dwalin rubbed his very large hands together, “Oh the boys do deserve being taken down a peg or two….” He said softly, clearly more to himself then to Dora. He straightened then and asked, “And the food offered?”

“Salted Pork.” She answered.

“Done!” he held out his hand, which Dora took what little courage she had in front of such blatant physical strength and shook his hand. To her utter surprise his grip was precisely strong, showing power, but not leaving her hand sore. His control was practically perfect.

Bargain struck, she let the warrior through the door. Bilbo had just come from the kitchen himself, looking worried. The startled reaction to the appearance of Dwalin didn’t surprise the Dwarf in the least, who bowed and introduced himself to Bilbo. The Hobbit had gone pale, but somehow kept enough of his wits to properly greet their first guest. Dora then showed Dwalin where the kitchen was, and where the dining room was as well and asked if he wouldn’t mind moving some chairs around so all fourteen bodies could fit around the large table. The Dwarf graciously agreed and got Bilbo to help him as well, since he wouldn’t know where to gather the chairs from.

Dora went back to the kitchen as she still had a few things to prepare yet. Once again she started to load dishes onto trays as it seemed Bilbo hadn’t quite finished the task before he came to the door. Bowls and small plates where stacked neatly on one tray, and she started placing mugs, unmatched as she didn’t own a fourteen piece set, on the other tray. She hoped to fill them with ale from the pantry before more of her guests came, but as she turned around she noticed a new face. He was nothing like the Dwarf before, he was cleanly dressed, in civilian clothes with a full head of silver hair and a matching, finely groomed, very long beard. “Balin, at your service.” He bowed with a courtly grace rather than the finesse of a warrior as the other Dwarf had shown. Balin was a gentleman, stately in is his posture as he stood just outside of the kitchen. “There was the mention that you may need help with setting the table, my lady.” He stated simply an open, welcoming smile on his face.

“That would be correct Master Balin, lovely to meet you and thank-you for your kind offer.” Dora lightly curtsied, “I am Dora Baggins.” Soon enough Balin made his way from the kitchen with a tray of mugs towards the pantry. This freed Dora to start on dessert early. Pulling over the strawberries to the large counter where Dora had done the rest of preparing supper, she set them slightly to the side and went about preparing the beaten cream.

There was another knock on the door, this time Bilbo answered it and from the sound of it, the Hobbit wasn’t going to let him or really them in. Whoever “Fili” and “Kili” where, their ability to cause trouble was clearly a specialty of theirs as they proceeded to ruin Aunts glory box, as well as get their surname wrong. Figuring she had mostly everything ready to go by this point, she started towards the front door only to meet Bilbo half way with his arms full of the largest assortment of knives that Dora had ever seen. Which was saying something… she had a knife for everything.

Poor Bilbo looked completely overcome with whatever had gone on moments before, his cheeks bright red and Dora took pity on him, “I’m sure it will all turn out just fine cousin.” She stepped forward to help him with the armful of pointy objects he was dealing with before she heard Dwalins booming voice, “What did I just tell yeh lad?” Which was answered with a bark of careless laughter. Dora knew then that one of the newest guests had decided to ignore her one rule and now the dessert was in trouble. “Oh no they don’t!” she whispered to herself and made a mad dash back towards the kitchen.

She arrived just back in time to see a riot of blond hair and a partially gloved hand reach out to steal a strawberry. Without thinking, Dora snatched up her sturdy wooden spoon she had set to the side of the freshly beaten cream and snapped it down on the hand of her unknown rule breaker. A sharply sworn oath and a murderous glare from the bluest eyes she had ever seen was what she received for her efforts, but he did withdraw his hand from the strawberries. The moment didn’t last though as another entered the kitchen and made for the shiny, ruby-red fruit. Just as quick and with probably even more force, Dora smacked the hand of the second rule breaker, who yelped and held his abused hand against his chest. Both were also Dwarfs, most likely the “Fili” and “Kili” that had caused Bilbo so much distress. Where one was fair with quite the set of braids both in his hair and beard, the other was dark, with scruff and a single well-kept braid just beside his left ear. Both were handsome in their own way, well dressed, standing with a somewhat cocky demeanor one saw in young warriors.

Dora was, of course, completely horrified that she had just assaulted two guests. They looked at her, shocked and angry, and she did her best meeting their stare with one of her own. Dwalin, entered, looking unbothered, “I told you both the rule.” He said simply. The Hobbitess had a sneaking suspicion that Dwalin let them in so he would have the pleasure of tossing them out. That wasn’t their deal, he wasn’t supposed to let them in at all. All bets were off then. Once again Dora wondered if all Dwarfs were like this. Time to take control of her kitchen. “Both of you, out, now.” She said evenly, pointing towards the hallway that would lead them towards the room they would be using for dinner.

“Well, excuse me princess.” The Dark one scoffed at her.

“Say that again.” She snapped, her temper, a gift from her Took mother, was well frayed from his attitude.

“I said – ouch!” She whipped the spoon down on his hand again, for as the Dwarf started to repeat himself to add to his insubordination, he went for a strawberry a second time. This would not continue. “Master Dwalin, I asked you to not let them in my kitchen, yet here they are.” She paused looking at the warrior, her anger lending strength to her courage. “Can you at least manage to get them out, good sir?” The tattooed and scarred warrior simply stood there a moment, stunned at the steel in the small Hobbitess’ voice before clearing his throat. “Of course Mistress Baggins.” His actions were controlled and precise, and quick as you please, he had both young warriors by the ears. A scuffle ensued and Balin came back to the edge of the kitchen to take the second tray of mugs. Dora ignored the barely controlled chaos for a moment to quietly hand Balin the second tray with a soft word of thanks to the elderly gentleman.

Turning back she saw that the Dark one was now in a headlock under one of Dwalins large arms, and the Blond was still being held captive by his ear. It seemed that the Blond sensed that his defeat was eminent and decided he would try at least to successfully steal a strawberry before he was man handled out of the kitchen. Dora’s temper snapped, “There is only one rule that we have given you, ONE. May I remind you, you are guests of Bilbo and myself. We are feeding you and housing you FOR FREE, I might add. And yet since coming through the door, you have been nothing but rude, destructive and disrespectful to the effort that has been made on your behalf. I don’t care if you are friends of Gandalf. If this behavior continues one more moment I will not see to your dinner and I will have Dwalin throw you out. If you wish to be cold and hungry feel free to continue to act as you have.” She then looked at Dwalin. “Get them out of my kitchen.”

True silence descended as she turned from all three Dwarfs, and finished preparing dessert. The mighty Dwarf easily tossed the two younger out of the kitchen in short order, “Out you two.”

A soon as she was alone, all her anger drained from her body, leaving her feeling lightheaded, as well as completely ashamed. To act so unhobbit like... but she had been so mad. She didn’t know if she would survive the evening if she had to deal with nine more versions of Fili or Kili. Maybe the Valar would be merciful. Bilbo came back to the entrance of the kitchen a few moments later looking about as miserable as puppy who had just misbehaved and got caught. “My apologies Dora, had I known that…this would be our evening I would have…” he trailed off, knowing that really he should have just said “no”. 

Dora signed, and straightened looking at her cousin. “While I do forgive you cousin, it is too late now to mope. We have more guests coming yet.” She set about putting the strawberries and cream to the side for later, wanting to get a head start on the inevitable mountain of clean up that was sure to begin very soon. Bilbo lingered for a moment longer before there was another knock on the door, to which he hurried off to answer. There was quite the loud commotion as it seemed that Gandalf finally arrived with almost all of the thirteen guests. Luckily for Dora, Dwalin seemed to understand that if there was a repeat of people making their way into her kitchen, he wouldn’t be getting any of that salted pork she had offered earlier. In fact Dora had half a mind to not give it to him regardless as he had seemed to purposefully let the two young Dwarfs into the kitchen. But no, she would not be bitter, it would not do to have any more outbursts this evening.

Steeling her resolve, she grabbed a smaller pot and ladled soup into it for an easier time of serving the now very full and very loud group of people in the dining room. Balin returned, standing at the edge of the kitchen, looking rather calm and serene “Is there anything more I could help you with, Mistress Baggins?” He asked.

“Bless this Dwarf!” Dora thought to herself, “If you wouldn’t mind bringing the bread, cheese and jam to the dinner table, I would be most grateful.” Balin nodded and took up the last tray she had and worked a little organizational magic, fitting all the side items onto the tray and moving off down the hall. Dora followed after a moment, gathering her courage once more to brave the chaos. Somehow she was introduced to all of those who were sitting at the table, though really she only noted the one name as “Nori” tried to slip a silver spoon up his sleeve. She glared at him, despite the fact that Gandalf was still talking to her, and he quickly understood he had been caught. He put the spoon back with an impish wink. She also now had sorted out who was Fili and who was Kili as the introductions went around the table. 

Now with all her hard work on display, the two of them were looking more than a little guilty. Gandalf finally came to the end of introductions and Dora gave them all a nod, “Dora Baggins, at your service.” She ladled out thirteen bowls of soup and then excused herself, as she was sure that everyone would have more than just a bowl of soup.

If they were anything like Hobbits, they would have three or more.

Dora hoped she had made enough.

When she returned with the second pot full of soup she overheard that one of their party had still not arrived. Whomever the thirteenth member was, his absence was causing even Gandalf to worriedly glance towards the front door more often than not. As Dora moved away to refill the soup pot once again, Gandalf quietly asked her to set aside a bowl of soup, bread and cheese for their missing party member. It was easily done, along with a bit of dessert as well, on one of the trays no longer in use for whenever their thirteenth member showed up. She then brought dessert out to a very pleased table of guests, using the now empty tray that had held the strawberries and cream to gather up some empty bowls. Turned out they didn’t have to wait too long, as a knock on the door came a short time after Dora set aside a portion for the mystery guest. Bilbo, with Gandalf in tow, went to go answer the door, as once more Dora had gone back to the kitchen to grab the food she had set aside for their thirteenth guest. There was an increase in volume as the newest member was greeted by his fellows and Dora found herself awkwardly standing in the doorway, waiting for the newcomer to find himself a seat. 

He turned toward her, seemingly sensing her presence regardless of the fact he couldn’t see her and she wasn’t making enough noise compared to the wave of sound coming from the group in front of them. His piercing blue gaze took in everything, though his expression remained closed. He was tall for a Dwarf, and though he was not as bulky as Dwalin, he had similar feel to him, a warrior. The menace was missing, instead there was a cold focus and yet as their eyes connected there was a brief flicker of… something. He was like a mountain glacier when the sun hit it, beautiful yet too bright to look at. He had long dark brown hair, with two braids on either side of his head ending in very ornate beads, with a close trimmed, well-groomed beard. There was something about this Dwarf that drew her in, the others as well, she could see it on all of the faces in front of her, and how they regarded this newcomer with deference and respect. 

He was different.

“Thorin Oakinshield, at your service.” He spoke, voice low and rough from disuse. 

“Dora Baggins at yours.” She nodded her head, rather than doing a curtsy, as her hands where full. There was a moment of silence between them, Dora finding herself easily caught by whatever kingly magnetism he seemed to be emitting. He was very, very good looking. After a beat, she realised she would have to be the one to break the silence as he didn’t seem inclined to do so himself, “I have food here for you Master Thorin, if you are hungry.”

Thorin nodded, “Thank-you for you kindness, Mistress Baggins.” And he took the only empty seat left and Dora set down the tray in front of him. A look of quiet delight settled on his serious features and he tucked in with little fanfare. Being that she already had quite a few dishes to do, with more about to appear as the last bits of cheese and bread were being cleaned up, Dora turned to return to the kitchen. 

“Mistress Baggins?” She turned at the unfamiliar voice, a very large Dwarf at the very end of the table spoke, “It was a fabulous dinner, and dessert. After weeks on the road, it was truly lovely.” Everyone at the table nodded, with a few even voicing their agreement with a hearty “Here, here!”

Dora felt a blush work its way up to her cheeks, ashamed at her own uncharitable thoughts towards people she just met, while also being pleased at the heartfelt compliment. “Ah, well, thank-you.” She felt a little worse as she realised, she hadn’t remembered his name and for the life of her, could not drag it from her subconscious mind. To hide this shortcoming she bobbed a small curtsy and resumed her short journey back to the kitchen. Dora lightly sighed as she started organizing the dirty dishes, secretly relieved that dinner went as well as it did, and soon was up to her elbows in wash water. It took her by surprise when she suddenly heard her name being called once more. Turning as best as she could while keeping her wet hands over the sink she saw both Fili and Kili standing in the doorway, each holding a tray with dishes from the dinner table.

Fili spoke first, “We’ve come to apologize Mistress Baggins, and to help, if you wish.” 

Kili continued after a moment of surprised silence from Dora, “We, ah…. Have been right asses Mistress Baggins.”

“You are forgiven.” She said, nodding at the two younger warriors, as she wasn’t about to hold a grudge against those who seemed to truly have a change of heart, their actions speaking just as loud as their words. “If you could set the dishes on the counter there, and then gather up the next batch that would be most helpful.” Fili seemed to delegate himself to be the one to go get more dishes, while Kili approached the sink, “I could wash those if you like?” He offered, smiling slightly. Dora was tempted to refuse the offer, but it would be so much quicker if he could wash and she dry, putting things away as she went. “Thank-you Master Kili…” After a few moments of mildly awkward shifting, Dora and Kili sorted themselves out and continued to work through the massive amount of crockery. It was a fairly comfortable silence on Dora’s part, content to focus on the task at hand, but Kili it seemed needed to fill the silence. “So, tell me about Bilbo… According to Gandalf he is quite the footpad.”

The Hobbitess looked at the Dwarf, confused as she dried the latest bowl, “Bilbo? A burglar? You must be joking.” She found herself softly chuckling even at the idea. Her cousin, sneaking around, taking what wasn’t his! Ridiculous! Kili started to look worried as he realized that Dora wasn’t going to regale him with stories of Bilbo’s successful break-in attempts but rather, there were no stories to be told at all. “You mean…. He hasn’t ever been on an Adventure?” the dark warrior asked.

“Gracious me, what has Gandalf been saying? I’ll have you know that any respectable hobbit wouldn’t be caught with so much as a furry foot outside of the Shire!” Dora said firmly. The look of worry on his handsome face transformed into one of true panic. 

“Pardon me, Mistress Dora, I’ll be right back.” He rushed out of the kitchen, wet hands and all towards the dining room, passing a confused Fili as the blonde brought the last bit of the dishes into the kitchen. Dora and Fili looked at each other, and the Dwarf opened his mouth to ask a question before there was an uproar from the other room. “Oh by the Valar.” Dora muttered, placing the bowl that she was holding in its usual spot and hurried into the hallway, Fili following after her.

They both came upon an unapologetic Gandalf, a flustered Bilbo and an enraged Thorin. 

“I recall saying only that Hobbits are incredibly light on their feet, going unnoticed by most, and the dragon has never known the scent of a Hobbit.” Gandalf stated, tucking his hands into the voluminous sleeves of his robe, calm and unintimidated at the intense glare from Thorin.  
Bilbo paled suddenly, “What’s this about a dragon?” He looked to the Wizard. Dora herself was also stunned, Bilbo stealing from a dragon of all things. It was preposterous, impossible even.

Gandalf calmly explained to Bilbo the details that this Adventure entailed, asking Balin for the last contract that had been done up for the Hobbit should he accept to go on the journey to Erebor the once prosperous stronghold of the Dwarven Kingdom. It seemed that Thorin wasn’t just the leader of this Company of Dwarfs, he was the rightful King Under the Mountain and he was here to ask for Bilbo’s help in stealing a very special jewel. Gandalf handed Bilbo the contract who read it quietly mumbling a few key phrases here and there. It was the list of all the ways that Bilbo could possibly meet his end that Dora found herself interrupting the moment.  
“You are sending him to his death!” She snapped, looking over at the Company, angry even at the thought of Bilbo being dragged half way across Middle Earth.

Gandalf leveled a hard look at Dora, “We are all possibly journeying towards our last moments Mistress Dora, but it must be done, the fate of Middle Earth depends on it”. He said, his dramatic but vague statement not swaying Dora in the slightest.

Thorin also had a disagreement with Bilbo becoming a part of the Company, “He is no burglar. He is no warrior, and you want me to trust him to find the key to my birthright while avoiding dragonfire?” He scoffed, and turned, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “We came all this way to only find that instead of adding a burglar to our Company, we are adding a grocer.” Bilbo blushed to the roots of his hair, embarrassed at being described in such a manner. “Now see here-.“ The Hobbit began in a breathless huff. Gandalf seemed to have enough of people questioning his choice of adding Bilbo to the Company as he broke through the din with a strong voice. “If say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!” the Wizard seemed to become menacing, growing larger in size, the room darkening around the Man. The room fell silent and Gandalf relaxed, returning once more to his usual self, looking frail and worn.

Dora summoned up some left over courage, still rather upset, “It matters not to me what you call him Gandalf,” She pointed at the extensive contract, unfolded enough now that it touched the floor. “You are sending him to steal from a dragon!”

Thorin turned towards the three of them, glancing with a measure of respect at the Hobbitess, “Well, Wizard opinions aside, what does the Hobbit say, will you come with us or no?” He crossed his arms leveling quite the stare at Bilbo, who grew even redder, unable to meet the warrior’s gaze. 

“I-I think not.” He said, taking a deep breath in, straightening his shoulders. “No.” He raised his head, “I have little reason to help those who think so little of me, without knowing me.” Bilbo then turned, leaving the now deathly silent dining room, heading towards the sitting room and his favorite chair. Dora, in a moment of Took inspired ire, threw up her hands, “I have dishes to finish.” She started to move off towards the kitchen, noticing that Gandalf was making to follow Bilbo. “Wizard, you will leave my cousin alone. He has given his answer, and I don’t need you convincing him to make a journey that will get him killed.” The Man looked rather startled, but took his seat once more, content for the moment it seemed to leave Bilbo be. 

Thorin looked between the two of them, the glimmer of respect in his gaze becoming possibly something more, but he stayed silent as the Hobbitess left the room. 

Much to Dora’s surprise, Kili came with her to help with finishing the mounds of dishes that still waited on the counter top to be washed. It wasn’t an easy silence between the two of them, but it held no unspoken anger on Dora’s part, as it wasn’t Kili who was trying to convince her cousin to go trapesing off to the Valar knows where. After about an hour of cleaning the two of them finally finished the task and Dora quietly thanked Kili for his help, and the young warrior bowed, making his way back to the Company as their discussion of what do to next was still on going. Dora untied her apron, hanging it back up and moved towards the sitting room to see how Bilbo was doing.

Gandalf had snuck into the sitting room at some point and was talking quietly with her cousin, low enough that she couldn’t make out what was being said. Bilbo caught sight of her, and in that moment she knew. “Oh Bilbo.” She said softly.


End file.
